Fear cut through Isaac and he wished with all his heart he would have never touched the flint and stone to make that fire. The chief stood there in the doorway, surrounded by the dim light of torches held by the men behind him. He had an expression on his face that Isaac couldn’t read. He didn’t look angry, but he certainly didn’t look calm. It was as if time stood still...Isaac staring at the chief and the restless men behind him, and they all staring back at him. What are they waiting for? Why does the chief look at me like he hasn’t seen me before? Isaac squirmed on the bed, trying to put on a brave face. What will they do to me? Don’t they understand it was an accident?Slowly, Isaac stood up, squeezing his palms together so no one would see his trembling hands. His knees felt weak and he swallowed hard to get rid of the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was determined to face these men like a man.The chief took a step forward, his forehead wrinkling. Isaac wondered if he was impressed by his bravery in standing up to him. Stroking his chin, the chief looked like he was about to speak.Isaac relaxed a bit, releasing his tightly folded hands. Maybe the chief would pardon him and let him go.The moment of hope was short-lived. Behind the chief, the furious village men surged in, knocking their leader to the side as if he hadn’t even been there. Isaac squeezed his eyes shut for a second, only to open them and see Akando standing before him. A powerful hand gripped his tomahawk and his black eyes seemed to burn holes into the terrified boy.Putting his hands up as if to protect himself, Isaac forgot all notions of trying to act like a man, only dreading what Akando would do to him. This madman has had it in for me from the day we were captured. Now that he has a good excuse, he’d probably kill me without objection from anyone. I burned down homes…wrecked these people’s peaceful lives...Akando only laughed as he saw Isaac’s worthless mode of defense. Gripping the boy’s shoulders, he drug him across the floor of the wigwam, the village men closing in tightly as if to prevent an escape.What are they going to do with me? Isaac begin to panic, his breath hard to catch. The chief wouldn’t just let them kill me...or would he?Ever since coming to the village the chief had treated him with indifference. Acknowledging Isaac with a scowl was hardly the same thing as saying hello.He’s probably still angry at me for stealing Kesegowasse’s horse all those weeks ago.Isaac cried out as Akando and the others forced him out of the wigwam and down the path into the night-time darkness. All of them kept yelling in their native language and Isaac was pretty sure none of what they said was good. Hanging limply from Akando’s hold, Isaac closed his eyes as he saw where they were taking him. It was a large, overgrown clearing where the tribal dances and meetings were held. While his leg had been healing, Isaac had seen a bit of the village when Chenoa allowed him to go outside. The moment he had first laid eyes on this certain place, it had sent chills running up his spine. It was dark, overgrown, and a number of thick trees had animals carved into them. Bits of colorful cloth and feathers draped over lower branches, and a few logs served as benches. Not here! Isaac wanted to scream. He didn’t know what it was about this place, but it terrified him. When lying inside the wigwam, with his leg sending spikes of pain through his body, he had heard the tribal chants and drums that beat at the tribe’s various meetings and dances. It had all been eerie and frightening. Now the night-time darkness made it worse, and the torches cast frightening shadows all over the meeting ground.Isaac glanced behind him and saw the crowd was following them into the meeting place. Because of the dark, he couldn’t make out many faces, but from the light of one torch, he saw one man, a hand tightly clutching the handle of his tomahawk and his free arm around a young woman with a baby.Did I burn down that couple’s home? Isaac hated the thought of what he had accidentally done. These people had taken him from his home, but he had destroyed theirs. Tears welled up in his eyes but he quickly blinked them away. No matter what happened, these people would never see he was afraid of them.Without a word, Akando shoved Isaac up against a tree, wrapped a thick leather strap around his chest, and tied his hands behind the tree. There would be no escaping. “He has destroyed many homes! Boy cause much trouble!” Isaac winced as Akando shoved an accusing finger into his ribcage. I hardly destroyed many homes...five! I only destroyed five! What other trouble have I caused? Isaac knew it would be pointless to argue. This man who hated him would do what he wanted. “Boy must pay!” Touching the handle of his tomahawk, Akando stared intently at Isaac, his lip curling. “He must die!” The crowd that had seemed restrained a minute ago suddenly pressed forward, their shouts filling the night air. No!! Oh, please no! Isaac glanced around wildly for Chenoa, for Joseph, the chief, even for Kesegowasse. He knew deep down it would be impossible to see them in the dark, but wouldn’t any of them step forward to help him? Didn’t Chenoa, who had seemed so kind and gentle, care that he was about to be torn apart by an angry mob? And where was Joseph? Had he pulled Isaac from the flames earlier only to let him perish now? I wouldn’t blame Joseph if he is hiding someplace. He might have saved me from the fire but he could never save me from Akando and this angry group of villagers.Guilt tore through Isaac and he lowered his head, trying to push thoughts of Joseph aside. Akando forced Isaac’s head up, his big hand squeezing his chin so hard it burned. What was he waiting for? Did he enjoy seeing Isaac so helpless or did he want to see him beg for mercy?Isaac tensed, meeting Akando’s gaze. He would not let this man see he was afraid. He’d show him he had courage. Akando only seemed to think Isaac’s manly stare was something to laugh at as he gripped the handle of his tomahawk. Suddenly, bright torches and dark figures hurrying towards them from the farthest side of the village caught Isaac’s attention. He turned his face away from Akando, squinting in the darkness to try and make out the faces of the figures.By accident, a cry escaped Isaac’s lips as he could make out Kesegowasse breaking away from the group of men and charging through the village. A late hunting party! Kesegowasse must not have realized what was happening. All the others got back late this afternoon but he and his men were still hunting. Isaac’s hopes raised slightly. Kesegowasse had never expressed any interest in becoming better friends with Isaac, but at least he had never treated him roughly. Would he possibly become an ally now?A shout boomed from Kesegowasse and Akando whirled around, accidentally slapping Isaac in the face with his outstretched hand. He looked confused and furious.“Akando! What is this!” Kesegowasse burst through the crowd, fists raised. Isaac heard an animal like growl come from Akando and he squirmed hard against the strap holding him to the tree, trying to pull free. Akando saw him and grabbed Isaac by the hair, jerking his head back. “He will not save you. You not going anywhere.” The man hissed under his breath. He was so close to Isaac’s face that the boy could smell the bear grease he used on his hair.“Akando!” Whirling back around, Akando jerked Isaac’s hair with his movements. Pain shot through Isaac’s head and he blinked hard to stop the black dots dancing in his eyes. “Kesegowasse---” Akando snarled, his free hand clenching into a fist.“How dare you!” Kesegowasse cried, taking a leap forward and scowling at any man behind him who dared to follow. “How dare you lay a finger on my brother!”

Isaac awoke with a start, sitting up quickly and whacking his head on a low shelf above. Groaning, he fell back into his bed of furs, that annoying tingle of pain still shooting up his leg. The weeks since his capture had only been a blur of pain, bitter tasting medicine, and dreams of life back home. Chenoa, Kesegowasse’s mother, was constantly at his side, soothing his cries when the agony of his healing leg became too much. She would smile softly, sometimes running her fingers through his hair. Once he thought he heard her humming, but wasn’t sure.He had only seen Kesegowasse a few times, but they had never spoken…just glanced at each other before looking away. The chief, on the other hand, would come by everyday and glare at him. Isaac supposed he was still angry that he had stolen a horse and tried to escape.Rubbing his sore leg, Isaac carefully sat up and leaned against the wall of the wigwam. It was a chilly day, but from the open slats overhead he could see bright sunlight and blue sky. A beautiful fall day. Isaac mused, rubbing the scar he had gotten from falling into the river. You’re a mess, Isaac. He laughed. A complete mess. What would Mother say? At the thought of his mother, Isaac’s bit of joy vanished. I wonder if she thinks I’m dead. A single tear rolled down his cheek and he brushed it away. If only I had a friend to talk to. A real friend. A pang of guilt nagged at Isaac but he pushed it away. Joseph is no friend…he’s just a bothersome little boy. Closing his eyes, Isaac attempted to think of other things. But try as he might, thoughts of that little, fumbling, towheaded Joseph kept sneaking into his mind. Why do I dislike him so much? The moment he thought it, Isaac squirmed. Deep down he knew why he disliked Joseph.A rumbling feeling in Isaac’s stomach broke his reverie. I’m hungry. Wonder when Chenoa will be back. Suddenly an idea struck him. I just know they all think I’m lazy and babyish. The way the chief looks at me, the way Kesegowasse avoids me, and Chenoa’s busy way of keeping me quiet. Well, I’m not a baby!Pushing the bear hide blanket aside, Isaac grabbed hold of the shelf above, and pulled himself up. I’ll make a fire and boil some of that dried trout for dinner. He felt very important all of a sudden. He took the flint and stone Chenoa used to start the fire and bent down awkwardly by the fire ring. He snatched some nearby twigs and dried grass and quickly arranged them in the pit. Isaac soon had a nice little flame going and he blew on it until it grew. Leaning back, Isaac sighed. All that quick movement had exhausted him. Putting the stone and flint away, he lay back down and pulled the soft furs over him.I’ll just rest my leg a bit, then start dinner. Pleased with himself, Isaac stretched out, trying to flex his leg a little. I won’t hear their whispers of me being lazy anymore...what do they know? As soon as the fire is going, I’ll cook that trout. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as the comforting smell of the burning wood filtered throughout the wigwam. Relaxed, Isaac let his thoughts wander to home. I wonder what Mother is making for supper? Probably a big, juicy ham, late vegetables from the garden, and oh….her sweet plum cake.Isaac scrunched his nose up. Why was so much smoke blowing into his face and why did it smell like burnt hair? Sitting up slowly, and wincing at the tingling pain in his leg, Isaac’s eyes met with an alarming sight. Somehow the edge of his bear hide blanket had fallen right into his newly built fire! Flames lapped at the edge of his blanket and he was horrified to see a trail of fire running across the earthen floor to the wall of the wigwam.Isaac pulled himself back from the burning blanket, coughing as he breathed in some of the smoke. He grabbed the pot of water nearby and tossed it onto the flames. It sizzled, but did nothing to put out the fire. Tearing one of Chenoa’s blankets off a small birch rack above his head, he tried to smother the blaze. The only thing he accomplished was to catch those blankets on fire as well. What can I do?! Isaac cried inwardly. He quickly realized he couldn’t do anything, as he watched a basket of new furs catch fire. It’s spreading too quickly...how did it spread so fast? Isaac backed up even farther, trying to cover his mouth. I’m trapped in here! I’m trapped in here and I’m going to die!“Help!!” he shrieked, coughing on the smoke that swirled around him. “Someone help me!” Panic gripped Isaac in its iron fist as he remembered that the men had gone hunting today, and all but a handful of women were cleaning fish down by the lake.Crouching low, Isaac tried to see through the thick smoke and find the doorway through the flames. He couldn’t. In a matter of minutes he would surely be overwhelmed by the thick smoke. Straining his ears, Isaac caught sound of screams and terrified yells of women from outside the wigwam. Surely someone will try to help me…surely… Isaac heard cracking above and looked up to see the roof burning. “Oh God,” he prayed. “Oh, dear God...please help me!”Suddenly, from out of the smoky flames, a hand grasped his arm and pulled him forward. “Come on Isaac!” a voice screamed. For a moment, Isaac was paralyzed. How could he trust someone he couldn’t see?“Isaac, you’ll die!” The pulling became stronger, and Isaac begin to follow his rescuer through the dense smoke and burning flames. He felt no pain in his leg and felt that maybe he was being carried off to heaven. But as he moved along, he could feel the intense heat scorching his skin, and he gasped for a single breath of fresh air. Suddenly, he burst into the light of outside. He felt hands grab at him and jerk him from the heat trying to follow him out the door. He gasped, trying to suck in as much fresh air as he could.Isaac thought he saw little Joseph’s face mixed in with the the concerned faces of a few women but his eyes were burning and the pain in his head was too intense that he thought he was just imagining things. Before he could say a word to explain what happened, his world became dark.____________________________________________Isaac felt someone touch his forehead, a cool cloth being pressed to his face. “Wha—what happened?” His voice broke and his throat burned. He saw Chenoa’s face bending over him and he tried to open his eyes the whole way. “What happened?” He asked again, this time struggling to sit up on his bed. Glancing around he saw he was in an old, poorly built wigwam.“No, Napayshni—” Chenoa pushed him down, keeping him there. “You must rest.” Isaac saw the look of concern in her eyes and he grabbed her hand. “What happened? What did I do to myself?”Chenoa moved her hand to Isaac’s and squeezed it. “You started a fire didn’t you?”“I—yes. I wanted to make some dinner.” Isaac winced as she rubbed some sweet smelling salve on his face.Chenoa didn’t say anything else. She wouldn’t meet Isaac’s eyes either. Isaac tried to remember what had happened after starting the fire. His head pounded and he couldn’t seem to remember.“Chenoa?”“Yes, Napayshni?”“What happened? What did I do?” He heard her sigh heavily but she still did not answer. “Chenoa.” He grabbed her arm and pulled on it. “What did I just do?”He heard her take a sharp breath in and blow it out quickly. “Isaac—you burnt down our wigwam.”For a moment Isaac lay still in terror. He had burnt down the chief’s wigwam? He had burnt down Kesegowasse’s house? Than he begin to wonder how Chenoa knew his real name.“Isaac.” Chenoa said again softly, almost in a whisper. “You didn’t mean to do it did you?” “No. I wanted to help—” Nearly choking on his words Isaac answered hoarsely. “I wanted to make dinner.” Isaac could still see a worried expression in Chenoa’s eyes and he caught her gaze again. “Did anything else get burned?”“Oh, Napayshni—Four more wigwams. The men couldn’t get here fast enough. No one was hurt besides you and one other.”Isaac’s heart sank. He had ruined five homes and had injured another person. That’s what I get for trying to help. Maybe I really am a helpless baby.Isaac winced as Chenoa rubbed some of the salve on his burnt arm. He didn’t know what hurt worse. The guilt of ruining some of the village or the pain.Chenoa helped him sit up so he could sip some water. “That little one was so brave running in and saving you like that.” She said, helping him lay back down.Isaac scrunched up his face. He vaguely remembered being saved, but he never found out who rescued him.“Who...who saved me?” “Why, that little boy...that little white captive that came into the village with you.” Isaac sat up in shock. Chenoa looked at him strangely as she pushed him back down.“We were all down by the lake and didn’t hear anything until that little boy came running towards us waving his arms. He stayed only long enough to tell us what had happened then hurried away.” Chenoa lifted Isaac’s hand and nodded to something on her lap. “This will sting but it will help it heal faster.” She was right. Whatever Chenoa put onto his hand stung so badly he wanted to cry. “What...what will happen to me?” Isaac finally asked in a small voice. He heard Chenoa sigh and she bent over to pick something up off the floor.“The chief is not pleased, Napayshni. First you run off taking Kesegowasse’s horse, then you burn down part of the village. It’s just—” Chenoa stopped, pressing her lips together tightly. “Rest now. Try to sleep.”With a pang of loneliness, Isaac watched her leave. Sleep?! I just burnt down part of the village! Tears seeped through Isaac’s closed eyelids and rolled down his face. I just want to go home. Ignoring the numb pain in his leg, he rolled over onto his stomach and begin to sob. Suddenly, a breeze rushed into the room and a beam of light shot across his bed. Opening one of his eyes, Isaac wanted with all his heart to disappear into the ground. The chief was standing in the doorway of the wigwam with a group of angry looking men behind him. To Be Continued…

Isaac hung on with all his strength as the horse galloped into the woods, blazing a path for himself alongside the river. It was hard to steer without any reins, but he discovered if he pulled one way on the horse’s coarse hair, it would go to the left, and if he pulled another way, it would veer to the right.He couldn’t stop the feeling of power he had inside as he raced through the thick woods on such a wonderful horse. Mama will be so surprised when I walk through the cabin door for dinner! He laughed again, so relieved to be heading home. She’ll call someone to fix my leg and we’ll go on just as before. She was wrong about God. I didn’t need His help to get out of there, I didn’t even need to pray. I can do it all myself.In his state of ecstasy, Isaac failed to see the camouflaged coil ahead of him! A loud rattling was the only warning the snake gave. Squealing, the horse danced to the left, where the fast moving river rushed over stones and rotting wood. Rearing up on it’s hind legs, Isaac lost his hold on the horse’s mane and plunged into the cold water.Sparks exploded in his skull as his head slammed into something hard. It wasn’t quite hard enough to knock him out, but he became very dizzy as he spun around in the icy water.He had never been a strong swimmer. No matter how many times his father had tried to teach him, he had always ended up thrashing and gulping down mouthfuls of water. His father had always been there to help him and hold him up. Now there was no one except him, and the river was winning.Coughing, sputtering, and crying out, Isaac managed to hold his head above the water for a few seconds at a time. He regretted trying to escape. Why had he been so foolish to think it could be so easily accomplished? Why hadn’t he watched out for obstacles on the trail?Isaac screamed as something caught hold of his shoulders, he thrashed about, frightened that he was about to drown.Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled onto shore. Before he knew it, he was lying on the bank of the river. The strong hands rolled him over and slapped his back. Water spewed from his mouth, and he could suddenly breathe again.The strong hands rolled him back over and loosened the collar of his shirt. Blinking away the stinging grit in his eyes, Isaac tried to see who had saved him from the river.“Don’t move. It will make the bleeding worse.” The young warrior was bending over him, looking into his face with a troubled expression. “Why would you steal my horse?” Isaac felt a flame leap into his face. He had no answer, only shame. “My father, the chief, is very upset you ran away. Our people are known for their kindness, but--” “Kindness?!” Isaac interrupted, finally working up some spunk. “Your ‘people’ broke my leg and wanted to leave me behind in the clearing! You call that kindness?”“I thought I, at least, had been showing you kindness. Your friend--the little boy?--isn’t treated kindly.”“Why not?”“He belongs to Akando.”“Akando?”“My uncle. My name is Kesegowasse.”“Your name is Kess-ego-washy?” A hint of a smile played on the Indian’s lips and he shook his head.“No, Kesegowasse. You’re fortunate my name means ‘swift’. You were half-drowned when I found you. You’re Napayshni now.” “I don’t understand—what’s Napayshni?” Kesegowasse helped him to his feet and pointed back to the trail. “Napayshni...your name.”“Listen here: my name is not Napayshni. It’s Isaac! Isaac Bradley. I’m fifteen years old and I’m not an Indian!”“No! You listen!” For the first time Kesegowasse became firm, and he backhanded Isaac’s mouth so hard it burned. “You’re an Indian now. You’re my father’s son. You are my brother. You are Napayshni.” Isaac’s lips trembled as he tried to hold back his tears. “I’m Isaac. Isaac Bradley!” A single tear made a trail down his face and he hastily brushed it away.“You are Napayshni.” From a small wooden keg, Kesegowasse plunged his finger in and brought out a grey paint. “Here, you’ll wear this now.” Isaac trembled as the large fingers touched his cheeks and slid across them to make a pattern. “You’re my brother now. You are Napayshni.”No. I’m Isaac. Isaac Bradley.As they started back down the trail, Isaac again riding the horse because of his leg, the young boy reached up and touched the dry paint. Remember. Remember who you are, Isaac Bradley.__________________________________________When Kesegowasse led him back into camp, the sun was beginning to set. Isaac could hardly believe how far he had made it on the horse before being thrown into the river. Smells of cooking meat rose from the fires as women flitted about, making the evening meal. Children ran around, playing a game of hide and seek in the shadows, while the men sat by the fires, chatting.The moment they set foot into camp, the people everywhere fell silent, staring at the captive, as he was led down the path towards the largest and most ornate wigwam. Isaac looked down at his hands and tried his best not to cry.He practically fell into Kesegowasse’s arms as the warrior drew him off the horse. He was completely exhausted and freezing cold. The room Kesegowasse carried him into was dimly lit and smoky, but it was warm. As he dropped off to sleep, he heard the muffled sound of angry voices rising and falling. I don’t even care right now. Isaac mumbled. I just want to sleep.____________________________________________Isaac nearly screamed as he felt a sharp tug on his broken leg. In fact, the pain was so intense it forced him right out of his nest of blankets and up into a sitting position.He saw Kesegowasse and a large white haired man handling his leg. Crying out, Isaac tried to pull away.“Shh, now—shh, little one.” Distracted for a moment by the soft, dove like voice, Isaac turned his attention from his leg to the person kneeling beside him.A woman, with long brown hair, deep blue eyes, and a round pretty face gently pushed him back down onto the blankets. “You must stay still. You're very sick.” As another wave of pain washed through him, Isaac moaned and pressed himself back against the blankets. “Who are you?” he somehow managed to say.“My name is Chenoa. I’m Kesegowaase’s mother. Now hush and swallow this.” A cupful of something hot was held to his lips and he swallowed obediently. It tasted bitter and he nearly choked on the first swallow, but after a few sips, the liquid had a strange effect on him. His eyes became heavy and he felt so comfortable, that he settled back, feeling almost no pain. “Lie still, Isaac darling.” Gently, she helped him lay back onto his cot. “You're quite feverish dear, but this tea will help.” It was sweet and hot, making his insides feel better. “Thank you, mama.” As he closed his eyes, he felt his mother’s fingers brushing through his hair again and again. Her sweet voice rose in a soft song, lulling him to sleep.Isaac smiled faintly. He was glad she was so near and was relieved to be slowly awakening from this horrible dream he had been in for the past few days.... But as he opened his eyes, the pain of reality hit him. His mother was not the one stroking his hair and he was not at home. He was still here, still in the Indian village, and he still had that awful grey paint on his face.

{Note from the editor: This story contains some graphic scenes. Not recommended for young children.}

Near Germany, Christmas Eve 1942…Daniel Rogers moaned, laying his head against the back of the train seat. No matter which direction he shifted, nothing seemed to soothe the deep wound in his side. He tugged at his uniform, trying to smooth out the bumps.Just as he couldn’t get his body relaxed, he couldn’t seem to stop his memories from haunting his soul...-------------“Please…please, you must help my brother! Please save him! I beg you!” The German’s cruel, cold face stared back at him blankly.“Nein. I do not save your kind.”“Please!” Daniel begged. “He’s my little brother...he’s the only family I have left!”His face showing no emotion, the German let out a scoff and walked away. Daniel bent over his brother, trying to stop his bleeding, trying to ease his pain. “I’m sorry, Aaron...I’m so sorry.”-------------Daniel reached into his coat pocket and touched the last earthly reminder he had of his brother...his crayons. Aaron had always dreamed of becoming an artist, and just touching his beloved crayons released a flood of sweet memories. With a simple touch, Daniel could suddenly picture his brother’s smile, hear his gentle voice, and even smell the ivory soap he’d use to wash his hair.His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the train lurched and slowed down even more. He could see from the dim moonlight outside they were deep in the woods and a heavy snow was falling. How he wanted to go and give that train driver a piece of his mind! They were supposed to have arrived at the army hospital by now, but the snow drifts and reports of German troops along the way had delayed them almost four days. Now all the weary passengers were shivering, cold, and hungry.All around him other injured soldiers lay, most of othem half conscious or delirious. There was only one doctor for all of them, something Daniel couldn’t figure out. “Still alive, buddy?” his friend Nate Murray inquired, leaning over him. “Doc said he’d come around and look at your wound in a sec.” “Why would it matter?” Daniel grumbled. “Not like he can do anything for me. This stupid train won’t keep going!” Nate jostled him gently. “Well, you’re as pleasant as my sister’s cat. Lighten up! Some of our train comrades are gonna bring around some biscuits and coffee.” “No doubt they’ll both be stale and full of weevils,” muttered Daniel.His friend didn’t get a chance to reply. The train came to a sudden stop and Daniel would have been thrown from his seat if Nate hadn’t had a good grip on his arm. “Oh, this is just dandy!” Daniel brushed off his friend’s hand and slouched in his seat. “Another stop. What a way to spend Christmas Eve...with a bunch of dirty, dying men and a German bullet in my side.”Who’d want to celebrate Christmas with this awful war going on anyway? Aaron was the one who loved Christmas. Back in Vermont, he’d always draw me a picture and we’d sit up late drinking warm milk and talking and playing games together...my brother and I. But now he’s gone...(Ebook coming Spring 2018)

A few months earlier:Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she pulled him close, her slender fingers stroking his hair.“All they know is he was taken—they looked—they searched for hours.” His shouldersbegin to shake with sobs and his mother took his face in her hands. “They’ll do everything they can, Isaac. Your father’s a strong man...I know God will give him the courage to get through this.”“God?!” the boy screamed, jerking away. “When has God ever done anything for us?” His mother tried to grab hold of him again, wanting only to comfort the grieving boy. “He’s let dozens of people die in these attacks, He’s let our crops fail this year, and now He’s taken away father!”“Isaac, please...God is with your father. He’s with us.” Isaac dodged his mother’s incoming caress and angrily headed for the door.“You can think that all you want, Ma! But God’s abandoned us—He’s abandoned me.” Opening the door, he headed out into the dark night.“Isaac! Isaac, come back, please! Isaac….Isaac…….Isaac………....”____________________________________________“Isaac? Isaac...are you a-a-awake?” As his dream faded away, Isaac Bradley tried to open his eyes. His stomach churned painfully and an excruciating stabbing sensation seized his entire left leg. To make things worse, someone was tapping him on the chest. “No touch!!” an angry voice boomed, forcing Isaac wide awake with a start. His eyes snapped open just in time to see the tall Indian rush over and give little Joseph a sharp kick in the side. Without another word, the tall Indian turned and stalked back to the fire ring where the other Indian men were. Taking a look at his surroundings, Isaac noticed they were in some sort of dark clearing, deep in the woods. It wasn’t even light out yet. I wonder why they stopped? Isaac thought to himself. If they want us far away why did they stop?“I-Isaac are you d-dead?” a small voice timidly asked from nearby. Joseph carefully crept closer and peered into Isaac’s face with a concerned look.“My leg….they broke my leg.” Isaac gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself up against a nearby stump for support. Joseph leaned over, touching the broken bone. “H-here, I think I can f-fix it.” “Get away from me, kid!” Isaac slapped his hand and pulled himself farther away. “You don’t know how to do anything right. I can do it myself.”“But--but, Isaac. I broke my leg once and--and I watched my Pa fix it.” “I don’t care what your Pa did. I could have got away from those Injuns if wasn’t for you! But, no, you had to be there and ruin everything! This’s all your fault!” As he said this, another wave of pain washed over his entire body, causing him to fall back against the stump with a groan. Joseph moved away, a lonely tear flowing down his cheek.Reaching forward, Isaac gingerly touched his knee. His older brother had broken his arm once, but he couldn’t remember what their father had done to put the bone back in place.Exhausted, Isaac fell against the stump, hugging his arms to himself. If only Father was here! He would send dumb Joseph away and help me get home. At the thought of that troublesome boy, Isaac turned his head to look at him. Joseph’s small hands were folded in front of him as he knelt beside a small bush not far away, praying. Praying never helped nobody. Isaac scoffed inwardly.Suddenly, another wave of pain crashed over him. Try as he might to fight it and stay awake, the darkness engulfed him and he was again unconscious.____________________________________________It was the rough hand of the tall Indian that woke the suffering boy the next morning. Without a word, he pointed to Isaac, then over to the horses, then back to Isaac again before walking off.It looked like the Indian camp was packing up, and everyone appeared to be in quite a hurry. Scanning the group of Indians, Isaac looked around for Joseph and saw him being tied to a connecting rope that went from a horse’s halter to around his wrists. His face was ashen and his lips were pursed in a thin line. Isaac looked closer at him, wondering what on earth had happened to his shirt. Joseph was visibly shivering and the older boy noticed how badly his ribs stuck out from his skinny body.Isaac tried to get up, using his good leg to push himself, when he noticed a little wet wrapping tied around his left knee.That’s Joseph’s shirt...he used his shirt...for me? Isaac looked from the trembling Joseph to the checkered shirt that was wrapped around his swelling knee.The tall Indian approached him swiftly, waving his hand impatiently to show Isaac that he wanted him to stand.“Uh, I can’t! You broke my leg, remember?” Without a word, the Indian gripped him under the arms and dragged him to his feet.The Indian hissed a few foreign words between his lips and Isaac wished with all his heart that he could understand their language. Until he learned their native tongue, he would have to be on constant guard every moment.The tall Indian handed Isaac a stout stick. He nodded, grunted, and then turned to join his group of natives. Isaac gripped his new stick tightly and found it helped support his weight some, but he still teetered back and forth, feeling as if he could tumble to the ground at any moment.Without another word, the small group of Indians started off through the thick woods, leaving Isaac standing in the clearing all by himself. Suddenly, it dawned on him...they were leaving him to fend for himself.“What are you doing?!” he screamed. “You're leaving me here?!” Desperate, Isaac stumbled forward, trying not to fall.He looked around for the younger Indian who had saved him from getting tomahawked last night. Surely that man would help, wouldn’t he? “Come back! You can’t leave me!” Thick tears gathered at the back of Isaac’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “Please! Please don’t leave me here!” Tripping, Isaac fell hard, crying out in pain as his leg hit the ground. “Akando!” Isaac, on the brink of unconsciousness, heard a stern voice ring from across the clearing. A string of Indian words followed and suddenly, a pair of arms came from nowhere and lifted him off the ground.“He lazy. He big mouth. Need to learn lesson!” It was the tall Indian that spoke from atop his horse. His arms were crossed, and he glared openly at the young Indian that had just picked up Isaac. “Akando, ride out and let this boy in my charge.” Startled that the young warrior carrying him spoke good English, Isaac’s heart leapt. Maybe he could tell him this was all a mistake! He had no place here and needed to be at home with his family!“How boy going ride?” the tall Indian asked. The large dark eyes of the young man carrying Isaac looked stern. “Don’t ask any questions. He’ll ride with me.”The tall Indian looked bewildered and furious. “You treat captives too well. Wait we get back, I tell your father.”Ignoring him, the young Indian helped Isaac mount a large dappled horse which stood nearby. It hurt terribly to have his leg in the riding position, but he was not about to complain and bring the wrath of that tall Indian upon himself.It seemed to Isaac, as their horse took the lead, that this young warrior carried a lot of authority throughout the group. The moment he shouted a string of Indian words, the whole group moved into the forest without a word.This sudden turn of events seemed unbelievable. Just a few moments ago, he was left for dead in the woods. Now he was sitting on a Indian’s horse, clutching tightly to the man’s coarse shirt to keep from falling off.I wonder if my father had someone watching out for him like this Indian is for me. Isaac wondered, the first hopeful thought he had had for a long time. Maybe this man will help me get home! He settled back onto the horse, rehearsing the perfect speech that would make this nice Indian turn around and take Isaac back to his family. This will be easier than I thought!____________________________________________Isaac was mistaken. The moment he tried to talk to the Indian in front of him, a hard hand swung back and struck him. “No talking. If you know what’s good for you, keep your mouth closed.” Embarrassed, Isaac glanced around to see if anyone had noticed him. His cheeks burned as he realized the tall Indian was smiling cruelly at him from behind.____________________________________________With nothing to do while riding along, Isaac looked around for Joseph. He finally spotted him, on the other side of the tall Indian’s horse, tethered to it like some kind of animal. Every once in awhile, Joseph would lose his footing and stumble to the ground. Impatiently, the tall Indian would jerk on his tethers until he stood up. Isaac could see Joseph’s face, hands, and bare chest bleeding from where he had fallen so many times, and something inside him felt sour. Joseph has to walk and I get to ride? That Indian is too rough with him! Can’t he see he’s trying his hardest? But the moment this thought entered his mind, Isaac shoved it aside. He deserves it, anyway. This is all his fault.As Isaac watched him, Joseph suddenly raised his scraped and dirty face to the older boy. For a moment, their eyes locked. His eyes cried out to Isaac, begging him to entreat the Indian he was riding with. Steeling his heart, the older boy turned away, ignoring him altogether.____________________________________________Isaac had mixed emotions when he saw the smoke rising from the trees in the distance. This was their third day of travel. Nothing much had happened as they tread through the thick dense woods.It had been such slow going. Much to his embarrassment, Isaac had terrible trouble with his leg. Often, the pain would become so intense he’d have to beg the Indian like a whining child just to get down for a moment. Without a word the young man would let him, holding up the group for a few minutes. Isaac hated the way everyone watched him stumble about and try to stretch his good leg.Once or twice he had fallen, bringing rapturous laughs from everyone. A silent hand from the young warrior silenced everyone in a second.Besides stopping every few hours for quick breaks and to eat dry powdery corn that the young Indian mixed with water and gave to him, the travel seemed endless. On and on they went, with seemingly no end in sight. Isaac was so weary and so detached from everyone and everything, that the sight of smoke was something to get his attention.With just a glance around he saw that everyone was jittery. Was this their camp? Is this our new home? Isaac wondered when he saw small smiles on the Indian’s faces as they too caught sight of the smoke.When the woods suddenly broke off into a narrow trail along a fast moving river, Isaac knew they were approaching what was most likely his and Joseph’s new home.The moment the trail became larger, Isaac could see the village between the trees. His heart began to pound rapidly. What would happen to them once they got into the village? He’d heard stories of captives being brutally killed by villagers. Is this what father felt like when the Indians brought him to a camp like this? Did father even make it to a village before they killed him?____________________________________________The village was like nothing Isaac had ever seen. Dozens of medium sized wigwams lined a broad dirt path going down the very center of the village, ending at an even larger wigwam decorated with multicolored strips of fabric and feathers. There were fires glowing out in front of almost every wigwam, and the smell of roasted meat was almost too much for the poor captive boy.Isaac had expected this place to be filthy and full of disgusting bits of rubbish. To his surprise, it was quite the opposite! Everything was neat and trim, the massive, crystal-clear lake in the background completing the scene that was peculiarly picturesque. It reminded Isaac of a fishing trip he and his father had taken several years ago.Glancing over at Joseph, he couldn’t help but notice how weak the little boy seemed. He had a glazed-over expression on his face, and his skin looked terribly pale. Isaac began to wonder if the tall Indian had actually fed the boy on their journey.As the villagers began to gather and stare at the newcomers, Isaac wished he could knock the Indian off his horse and bolt off into the woods. It was a ridiculous idea, but he wished he could try.Again, the young warrior’s hand came up in a silent motion, and all at once the people rushed forward with whoops of laughter and excitement. Children, women, and young men quickly engulfed the warriors. Children hugged their fathers and brothers, and in return, the travelers brought out small gifts.Isaac saw one young, shy Indian squaw take the hand of a warrior and lead him over to where a small child played in the dirt. Kneeling down, the proud father tousled the boy’s hair.Isaac turned his face away, feeling an ugly pang of jealousy and loneliness. It wasn’t fair. A hundred memories rushed back, reminding him of how his own father used to catch him up in his arms and smile down at him proudly saying, “My, my, Isaac. I’m gone a few days and I come home to find you nearly grown!” At that, his father would tackle him playfully and they’d wrestle until their mother would tell them to hush and clean up for dinner.The villagers didn’t seem to acknowledge Isaac or Joseph, except for a few curious and scrutinizing looks. Finally, the young Indian warrior dismounted his horse, leaving Isaac, and walked over to a large, white haired man who come from the big wigwam. The young Indian bowed low to the old man, and held out his hands…….Isaac inched forward on the horse. He saw his chance and decided to take it, even with everyone milling about. He plunged his knees deep into the horse’s side, not even wincing at the pain that shot up his injured leg. The horse reared up with a loud whinny, then shot off through the encampment like a bullet! Isaac held on for dear life, loudly encouraging the horse to run as fast as its legs could go.Behind him he heard terrified screams of women and children, along with the angry shouts of men. They won’t catch me! Isaac laughed. I’m going home!

Before you lies a drama of epic adventure, intense danger, and genuine courage - based on a true story during the time of King William’s War in the late 17th century. I stumbled across this amazing account while reading “Sweet Land of Liberty” by Charles Carleton Coffin and immediately knew, if it were fleshed out a bit, would make for a great story. I’ve based my tale on facts found in Mr. Coffin’s book and incorporated information I obtained from other resources. Where I couldn’t find the facts, I used my own imagination to fill in the missing details. I hope you enjoy.

My story begins in the colonial countryside of Haverhill, Massachusetts...

“To Have the Courage” - Part 1It didn’t matter if the neighbor boy was actually doing a good job. He was clumsy and deserved to be picked on--or so Isaac thought. To him, it was his duty to keep an eye on clutzy Joseph and be ready to yell at him if he made a mistake. So what if, in doing so, he missed a few weeds himself? Unfortunately, Isaac couldn’t find much fault with Joseph’s work today, but he decided to yell at him anyway:“Hey, you missed a spot!” his taunting voice shouted across the field of waist-high grass.“D-did not!” came the response. “You’re just saying that b-b-because I’m doing it right!”Tossing down his sickle, Isaac Bradley stomped over to the little neighbor boy and sized him up. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t imagine little Joseph Whittaker ever using his mind or body for anything useful. He was a clumsy, slow witted baby who never held his sickle right and always got in the way of Isaac’s progress.“Y-you don’t have to look at me like that! It was your b-brother who wanted an extra hand today... It’s not my fault he p-picked me.” Having spoke his mind, Joseph turned back to his patch of weeds, but stumbled when his bare foot hit a stone. Isaac chuckled to see his face slam into the soft earth.“Ya know, boy, just because you’re our neighbor doesn’t mean my brother has any right to sign you up as my partner. I can do this work just as well, even better without you.” As Joseph pulled himself off the ground and his face out of the dirt, Isaac spied a single tear making a trail down his mud-stained face. Isaac scowled, walked back to his sickle, and resumed chopping weeds. It was really too bad the dumb neighbor boy was the only person around to help his family with their fields. Joseph’s family was poor - dirt poor - and they needed the money Isaac’s brother would pay him for helping in the fields.As he bent over to chop another patch of weeds, an annoying wave of red hair flopped onto his sweaty forehead. Isaac pushed it off angrily; he was so sick of his hair! Why did it have to be red? Red and untamable - just like his father’s. But he didn’t want to dwell on that unpleasant topic. Quickly, he pushed the painful memories of his beloved father aside and straightened up, his back popping as the annoying crick in his spine released.It was high afternoon, the sun at its zenith. Sweat poured down Isaac’s face as he looked up and uneasily fixed his gaze on the tree line. Just this morning, he thought he had caught sight of dark shapes moving among the trees, but had quickly blamed it on his imagination. He didn’t see anything now and felt relieved.“W-want any water, Isaac?” Joseph was suddenly at his side, his sickle in one hand and his small keg of water in the other.“Kid, I don’t want nothing from you!” he snapped briskly, shoving him aside to escape to another part of the field. Joseph teetered from the nudge and dropped his sickle and keg of water. The liquid spilled out, splashing him, and soiling his shirt--a shirt that was more patches than actual fabric.Tears threatened in the back of Joseph’s eyes and he bent down to snatch up his sickle, and in doing so, let out a cry of pain. Turning around, Isaac saw that Joseph had picked up his sickle by the blade and now held his bleeding fingers against his water-soaked shirt. Since his shirt had no more room to absorb liquid, the blood skimmed along the fabric’s surface and splashed onto his dirty feet. Big tears were rolling down his babyish cheeks and he was trembling.Rolling his eyes, Isaac reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and trudged over to the neighbor boy. “Here, hold this on your wound.” Joseph looked at him cautiously. Isaac persisted and shoved the handkerchief into his hand: “Hold it tight on your fingers now...and why don’t you go take a break.” The young boy looked puzzled and slowly reached down for his sickle, the handle this time.“Uh--I don’t--it doesn’t--” he seemed to be having trouble turning his words over in his head. “It’s n-not that bad.”Slowly, their work continued without any more speaking or teasing. It surprised Isaac that the quieter he was, the more work they both accomplished.It was only a little later that he looked up to see Joseph gazing at the sky, his brow furrowed. “D-don’t you think we better get--get home? I’ve heard s-s-stories about these woods. B-beasts and such.” “No, we still have lots of work to do and it isn’t even dark yet,” Isaac snapped. Joseph went back to his silence, working with a worried expression.It wasn’t until the shadows had grown long and the sun was nothing more than a glow of orange and red colors that Isaac decided they better get home. For some reason, he had wanted to linger in the quiet before going home to an evening of more work.Without a word, Joseph started to follow him across the field. They had only gone a short distance when he suddenly stopped and gave a faint yell. Forgetting any little patience he had had earlier, Isaac whirled around and scolded him. “What is it now, kid? My brother will give me a thrashing if I don’t get home to milk the cows. Why I oughta--” he stopped, following Joseph’s gaze. The little neighbor boy was staring into the dark woods, his big, blue eyes wide with fear. What was it about the look on Joseph’s face that made the hair rise on the back of Isaac’s neck and send shivers running up and down his spine?And then he saw it himself---from the woods, two shadows were emerging. Two tall, dark shadows. Joseph’s face grew white with horror and he sunk to his knees. Isaac gripped the knife in his belt, staring at the shadows that were growing closer, ever closer.He didn’t have to be told what or who they were. In the last rays of the sun he could see their glittering tomahawks and painted faces. His heart pounded in his chest and on impulse, he jerked Joseph up onto his feet. He took off across the field towards home, dragging Joseph behind him. The little boy was surprisingly heavy for his size, but even in his dislike for him, he couldn’t let him here alone to face those men. It was the same stone Joseph had tripped on earlier that was the downfall of Isaac. He landed hard, Joseph sprawling beside him, whimpering. A pair of rough hands jerked Isaac back to his feet, shaking him violently. There were two Indians, one taller and stronger than the other. The smaller one pulled Joseph up, yelling something and slapping him across the face. “Leave him alone!” Isaac cried, impulsively lunging towards the smaller Indian. The tall Indian jerked him back by the arm, his aged, painted face furious with anger. For a moment, he fingered Isaac’s thick red hair, marveling at its wild curliness. He said something to his comrade and they both laughed like a pair of happy boys. “Let go! Stop it!” Isaac kept struggling as he watched the smaller Indian tie Joseph’s wrists. Isaac’s captor moved to do the same and Isaac kicked him hard in the kneecap, his eyes wild with fury. “Dare to touch me, filthy savage!”Suddenly, without warning, the tall Indian pushed Isaac back and slammed his foot into his left kneecap. Isaac jerked back, his body crashing onto the fresh dirt of his family’s field. As his back hit the ground with a hollow thud, he let out a strangled scream of pain. “N-no! I-Isaac!” Joseph struggled to free himself as the tall Indian pulled a tomahawk from his belt which he held it over Isaac’s head as the boy writhed in pain. “Please, please d-don’t! He, he-didn’t mean it!” Suddenly, the shorter Indian stepped forward, his young face stern. “Akando awasos!” he called out, an authoritative tone in his voice. Shaking his head, he grabbed the wrist of the taller Indian and quickly pried the tomahawk out of his hand. “Hmph!” replied the other. The shorter Indian then jerked his head towards the woods and the older one reluctantly nodded. Without a word, the tall Indian bent down and snatched Isaac up, tossing him over his shoulder. Isaac gritted his teeth against the violent movement and the pain that surged through his leg. From the corner of his eye, he could see Joseph being drug by his arm over the rough, uneven field, his clumsiness causing the short Indian to be harsh.No! This can’t be happening to us. They can’t take us! First father, now me? They can’t do this to us! Isaac made one last effort to free himself, but it was no use. Help! Isaac screamed inwardly. They’re taking us away....forever!To Be Continued...

Laura

Author

An all-out coffee enthusiast, Laura loves reading and writing historical fiction. In the rare moments when she's not pouring over history books or engrossed in her latest writing project, she enjoys snuggling with her fluffy orange kitten and listening to "The Extraordinary Adventures of G.A. Henty" audio adventures. Laura loves Jesus with all her heart and strives to point others to Him in everything she does!